(Christophe Willem) Quand je serai grand, je serai Bee Gees Ou bien pilote de formule 1 En attendant je me deguise C'est vrai que tous les costumes
true miles away Our voices will ring together Until the twelfth of never We all will love together as one Come to see victory In a land called fantasy Loving life a new
game is whiffle wicked Saint Patty's day, green pinstripe, number 20 Mark Spitz'n Jersey oh we with the matchin' new wear fitted White boys say my style
for the phone, Hand me mph, I ask no project... my people, How come all the whips you n-ggas buying get the repo, Catch me in something new that I'm
, yeah, yeah yeah, Nas, uh, yo Here I come from the housin' tenement buildings Unlimited killings, menaces marked for death Better known as the projects
Yo yo brand new KRS y'all, Maximum Strength 5 Boroughs of death we rep to death Yo Kris, set it for The Bronx.. [KRS-One] We hit em and get em, we stick
[Cappadonna] Yeah, '96 Park Hill style Burial ground sound, in it forever dunn Politic Here we come, right through your eardrum Dunn Cherry-head catch
done spread(done spread) gone now dead, enough said from the scene I fled wit the paranoid thoughts runnin round my head It's like that war, project
warrior, to the heart, but I didn't kill Cyrus I get as ill as chief of police on narcotic Noorotic, my style format rocks the project Give
I hurt him bad you heard him laugh Talkin' trash 'bout whoop my ass I never let a nigga do that who that get his brains blew back With a new gat yellin
[50 cent - Verse 1] Imagine I was broke right now Saying damn, where my friends go Cat burgler style, I'm coming through your window Bitch I'm so focused
want to outdo you Damn, too late, we going after you Go get more niggaz, you gonna need more than two Project Paki, here to rep the east, New Jersey-
Juice get this money pile 5 to 6 cell phones got no cars breakin down Everyday wit a new bitch dats how I get down Stupid color chain and my ? Tropicana style
with the fives, my clique then amplified Sounds as we ease beneath the New York moon Pounds as we dip increase these New York tunes It?s the universe
flatbush in my baggy booster gets Style is tight ees bust the cami' fatigues 50,000 leagues of black, so what's up Can we avenue slide player style ghetto
but D-Block rock steady (D-Block!) FED's don't need no warrants 'cause y'all all informants So I get higher than New York insurance Try to keep shit clean
dick He told me foul shit, wild shit That nigga wear a lot of loud shit, no, that Steve Rifkind style shit Hit me with some other talk, him in New York
face [Solomon Childs] From the land of the pushers, hustlers and handlers With military, heavyweight standers Cameras on the cannons, move amongst hoes and gamblers Empties on my project
